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“My dear, you’re here!”

I chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“In the flesh, old man! Your rent-a-nutcracker isn’t here to let me in,” I shout into the box.

“I’m sorry. He called out today.” The gates start to open. “There you go! See you at the door.”

I take in the well-groomed grounds. A small part of me missed the welcoming sight.

I pull up the long high driveway and park off to the side as I always do. My feet barely hit the rocks on the ground when I hear his voice shouting at me from the steps.

“Patience! Oh sweetheart! Where have you been?”

I turn with a wide smile and wave. This man has the ability to make me feel so missed.

“Sorry!” Grabbing my bag, I make my way up the steps. I don’t have time to think before being pulled into a tight embrace.

Pushing me back at arm’s length, his eyes land on my bruises.

“What happened?” He reaches for my forehead and runs a finger over my bruise. Wincing at the stinging touch, I throw my head back.

“I got mugged. The asshole threw my head into a wall. I’m all right, though.”

His lips purses as I catch a spark of anger in his eyes.

“I’m okay. Really.” I rub the top of his shoulder.

Furrowing his brows, he nods, but I can tell the anger remains close to the surface.

“Well, I hope they caught the bastard that did it.”

I nod and throw him a tight smirk. As I walk into the house, an odd coolness settles between us. The normal buzz of people is absent as we move through the halls.

“Where is everyone?” I say, searching for movement as we pass empty rooms.

“I was beginning to receive too many complaints about everyone being overworked, so I gave them the day off. Hopefully, no one else will quit. I’m fairly sure the agency won’t send another person if they do.” A crease forms between his brows.

“I see.” I lower my head to hide the smile that forms on my face.

“I’m glad you’re finally here. I have something special in the conservatory.” The excitement in his voice brings a smile to my lips. Walking through the back doors, we begin our stroll through the garden.

“Are you going to tell me which collection is finished?”

He looks up at me from under his glasses.

“No. It’s a surprise!”

“Do you want to hear the results from the lab?”

“No. We’ll have time for that later.”

The pace of his steps increases as we make our way through the garden.

We turn a corner on the path, and the large white building comes into view. It’s a new construction, but the exterior reflects the same aesthetics as the main house. The only elements setting it apart are the floor-to-ceiling windows along every wall. Old English white bricks and tarred dark wood beams rise in the cross-sections across the building. Stepping inside the large open space looks more like a display room at a jewelry store than a conservatory. Glass cases line the room in rows, each one encasing part or all of a unique collection. The UV-treated windows allow just enough light to seep in, bathing the room in a shadowed glow.

Among the glass display cases, one remains covered in a sheet. Lennox steps around me and heads over to the case. The excitement of revealing a new collection is visible in every movement he makes. I raise my brow in amusement as I approach it. He grips the end of the sheet, shifting from side to side.

“Are you ready to see perfection?”